I have no imaginary friends calling today though this doesn't rule out the possibility of them popping in unexpectedly. No I am too busy trying to get the chair finished, tricky though it is. Then, as a treat, I can take apart the housing project patchwork and put it together properly. And I must remember to finish my C&G homework which is mighty tricky. I've run out of long words, even ones I don't quite understand, to describe Texture.
The Lovely Claudia and her niece are coming to play tomorrow. The nice niece describes my house as Paradise. We will make cupcakes and eat cupcakes until we feel sick, as usual, then get stuck to the dog.
The seaside flat is currently let. I would so like to go there but I so like the money I get from the lettings I'll put up with next door's screaming kids, the wasp attacks and riots of London. By the way, we killed a zillion wasps by spraying a bit of ant powder at the entrance of their nest whilst they were asleep. ("We" means the Apprentice son; Mr Smith is far too weedy and I am not tall enough.) Result: a kitchen sink full of dead wasps and some interesting crunchy bits in the cupcakes.
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